


Go Together Like... (Peanut Butter and Jelly)

by saybyebus



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Minecraft Mobs - Freeform, No Romance, Short Chapters, Small Adventures, Trying something new, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:54:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26515537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saybyebus/pseuds/saybyebus
Summary: Inspired by a Tumblr post. The small adventures of Peanut the creeper and Jelly the slime. Original content based on my headcanons and lore ideas.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	1. How It Began

**Author's Note:**

> Post that inspired it: https://honeybeebuzzard.tumblr.com/post/182949138709/ministory-where-a-creeper-finds-a-lil-slime-and  
> Characters and environment are non-blocky. This is my interpretation of Minecraft, and in it, creepers are a kind of canid. If you don't like that idea, you're free to read someone else's story. Or write your own.

_Summer_

There exists a word for the evocative smell lingering in the air after rain or a thunderstorm, which scientifically is caused by ozone drifting to a lower level of the atmosphere. This clean and earthy smell is called petrichor. Many individuals eagerly await their chance to drop such a word in their next conversation.

Peanut knew none of that, of course, and neither would she care much about whether or not she could flex her verbal prowess by mentioning petrichor in a conversation. In part this was because she could not talk, of course, but she also found herself less inclined to romanticize a driving thunderstorm when caught in the middle of it.

Cold rain soaked through her fur as she stumbled through the sopping-wet woodlands in search of shelter. Every patch of bare dirt had melted into mud in the onslaught, which clung to her paws and slowed her down as she schlepped through. She shivered; what she wouldn't do for a warm and dry space to shake out her fur and rest!

A little while ago, Peanut had found a large fallen log and tried to huddle in there. But the water leaked through cracks in the old weathered wood, and the wind found its way in nonetheless. Then she'd discovered a thicket under some trees standing close together, and thought that was as good a spot as any. But when she attempted to nestle into it, she got stuck with nasty little thorns – it was a thicket of sweet berry bushes.

Now she had thorns to pick out of her fur along with mud. One large one, in particular, was caught in the skin of her back leg, and it was driving her crazy. She couldn't focus on her search for shelter as long as that annoying thorn bit into her. In frustration, the creeper plopped down on the muddy ground and twisted around trying to reach it.

The clouds stewed angrily overhead. Peanut's fur stood on end for a second, and then the lightning hit. A bolt of white energy coursed down from the sky and zapped a tree just a stone's throw away from where Peanut stood. The crack of thunder followed less than a second later, since the lightning had struck so close. It sounded like a blast of some powerful explosive. Peanut jumped in surprise, crying out. She'd never heard thunder at such a close range before, and for a second her instincts mistook the sound for another creeper's explosion. To her instincts, another creeper exploding meant a serious fight going on nearby, one against a dangerous enemy. All her senses sharpened in her panic – the storm fell quiet for her, and every leaf and blade of grass seemed sharper. Over the petrichor and wet earth she caught a whiff of other animals' scents, and she detected a strain of a musky smell coming from somewhere nearby.

That was how she found the cave. It was well-hidden behind a patch of shrubbery and the husks of saplings that never had the space to grow. Without adrenaline-honed senses, Peanut would have struggled to notice the moss-covered pile of rocks and the small opening they left. At the sight of a safe place to wait out the storm, Peanut's rapidly throbbing heart calmed down, and her stumpy tail wagged. Right away she ran to it and squeezed through the crevice.

Peanut stepped into the grotto, her eyes immediately adjusting to the darkness. It wasn't a very deep recess, but would still block out the harsh wind. A tree trunk was wedged between the stones making up the “ceiling” – long ago, an acorn must have fallen into a crack and took root. Some moss and blown-in debris prevented the floor from being bare stone. It wasn't a nicely carved-out den, but it would work for now.

First, Peanut shook out her very wet fur. Then the creeper settled down atop a mound of moss and began to pick the thorns out of her fur. She managed to pull out the large, annoying one caught in her back leg. When she'd pulled it out with her teeth, she tossed it to the back of the cave in annoyance. With that taken care of, she turned in circles a few times and lowered herself to the floor. Safe from the storm, she now let the rumbling thunder and pattering rain soothe her. In time, the noises lulled her to sleep...

[(|)]

Hours later, Peanut awoke to a wet sensation atop her head. She blinked awake in confusion – had the cave ceiling started to leak? A glance through the grotto opening told her that the storm had passed, and now the wind only blew about a light evening drizzle. Strangely enough, nothing else felt wet, just her head. She tilted her head downward, and with that motion, a mound of something green slipped off and landed in front of her.

The tiny slime plopped on the floor with a quiet squishing noise. Peanut yelped in surprise and drew back. The gelatinous creature, no bigger than a rabbit, stared at her with its big dark eyes. It didn't attack her or really act hostile at all; then again, it really couldn't, since slimes of its size were the weakest of all. Peanut paused, then leaned forward and sniffed it, catching its pungent and almost fruity scent. The slime jumped, and it landed on her head again. Her ears flicked back. She wasn't sure what to make of this tiny slime and their apparent need to be on top of her. It reminded her of a pup. Baby creepers liked to perch on their parents' heads, too.

The slime slid off of Peanut again and hopped around to face her. It was a bold little thing to be jumping and climbing on a creeper – a known medium-level predator. Creepers weren't known to eat slimes, but their teeth and claws posed a significant danger for a slime's soft gelatin flesh, and that wasn't even considering the notorious explosive power. An angry creeper was not to be toyed with.

Peanut wasn't angry, though – just curious by the presence of the small jelly creature. In fact, she found its round, wobbling shape and permanently surprised expression endearing. She didn't mind sharing a cave with Jelly. She glanced over her shoulder as Jelly bounced up again and landed on her back. They glanced at her, blinked, and then wiggled happily.

Well, Jelly was small, green, and delicate...not all that different from a creeper pup, really. The slime rolled off of Peanut's back and then nestled in the space between her front paws. The creeper wrapped her forelegs around Jelly's small form, protecting them, and rested her head atop them. Outside, the drizzle continued to fall. It would be several hours still before dawn. The new friends fell asleep to the patter of the nighttime rain.


	2. Breakfast Run

Peanut awoke with her slimy pillow still tucked under her chin. Jelly quivered in their sleep. As she stretched her back and legs, rising from her laying position with a big yawn, Peanut wondered what slimes dream about. Who could guess? There didn't seem to be a lot of activity going on inside the little green creature's mind. Did Jelly, or any other slime for that matter, even have a brain? Maybe the slime was dreaming about food. That was what was on Peanut's mind at the moment.

Before she had gotten lost and separated from her pack, she ventured out on evening hunting trips with them. The memory of them made her nose quiver – wind rushing through her fur as she and her packmates chased a deer or heifer through the underbrush, the freshness of air, the anticipation of juicy meat to sate their hunger. In those moments, life flashed by at its rawest and most acute.

She wanted to go back. Where had her pack, her family, gone? Did they still remember her?

Peanut shook out her fur. Someday she'd find her pack again. But until then, what mattered was the now, and it was to provide food for herself and her new friend. She sniffed the air, hoping to catch a scent of prey. Hopefully, that prey would be lethargic and easy to catch in this humid, dewy morning. It would have to be a small animal, like a rabbit, but it would be meat nonetheless.

Say, did slimes eat meat? Pebble didn't know; rarely had she encountered slimes before at all, and when she did, they never stuck around long enough to eat anything. Jelly didn't have a mouth per se, but their slime was absorbent – perhaps they ate by sucking food in through their slime. Or maybe they didn't eat at all? Well, even if Jelly didn't need food, Peanut did, so she continued sniffing at the ground and tilting her head in an attempt to catch telltale sounds.

Along the way, she found a scent trail – a smell that, for all intents and purposes, was Brown. Somehow. Some smells just have colors, and for this one, that color was Brown. Peanut honed in on it, as her nose told her the story – a squirrel, gathering food for its winter store. It hadn't done a good job of masking the hiding-place for its goods, as it kept returning to the same spot over and over again and leaving a strong imprint of its scent. Peanut followed it, ears twitching the whole while as she searched for a sign of the critter's proximity. A leaf shuffling here, a branch rattling there – squirrels made small sounds, but they didn't go unheard. Peanut herself remained well-hidden, her mottled green fur rendering her near-invisible against the brush. And of course, she made not a noise, as per with her kind.

The squirrel bounced into view, a black walnut in its mouth. Peanut tensed, claws raking the dirt. This attack didn't require an explosion, of course. That was only for the most threatening of enemies; a little squirrel posed no such challenge. In theory.

Peanut's target paused for a second to scrape its teeth against the walnut shell. Her ears flicked at the unpleasant noise, but she wouldn't let it stop her. This was Peanut's moment, so she lunged. She flung herself at the squirrel with teeth and claws at the ready. Her paws slammed down on the squirrel and she heard it scream. It was a mere cry of surprise, however, and the slippery creature soon worked its way free of her grip. It chattered furiously at her while swatting at her face with its tail. By the time Peanut had gotten her senses back, the squirrel had disappeared into the brush again.

She whined softly in her disappointment. Her stomach rumbled. She still needed something to show for her effort. Glancing about, she saw the abandoned walnut. The squirrel dropped it in the chaos and, of course, wouldn't come back for it. Peanut wondered if Jelly would like it.

The walnut had a small crack exposing its sweet nutmeat inside, and Peanut caught a whiff of a similar scent winding away into the woods. So she followed it, until she came to a weather-beaten ash with a deep crook between its two biggest roots. The scent permeated the most strongly there. Peanut began to dig. Her large paws made easy work of the soft dirt, and so it was not long before she uncovered a stash of nuts and seeds. The squirrel's winter stash, no doubt. Peanut's tail wagged as she realized her hunt hadn't been for naught after all. She wasn't interested in the seeds or nuts – some of them might have been poisonous to canids anyway – but Jelly might have a taste for them.

The squirrel's stash rested in the remains of a split log, making a convenient basin for Peanut to pick up and carry. So she did, trotting along with the hull of wood in her mouth. She slid it through the crevice in the cave and then slipped inside. Jelly hopped over eagerly and bounced up and down, trying to see what Peanut had brought.

She set down the “tray” and rolled a walnut towards the slime. Concerned that her little friend might have trouble with the shell, Peanut slammed her paw down on the nut in an attempt to crack it. Jelly jumped back in surprise and quivered, but then approached again when they saw that Peanut had cracked the nut. They hovered over the walnut and then sucked it into their slime, whereupon it dissolved into miniscule bubbles. Peanut watched the process, mystified. She'd never seen a creature eat like that before.

For a while, the cave clamored with the sound of Peanut smashing walnuts and Jelly absorbing them. They developed a nice rhythm. Peanut ignored her own hunger for the time being, more pleased that her rather defenseless little friend got a chance to eat. When the walnuts ran out, Jelly quivered happily and bounced around the cave. Peanut's paws had begun to hurt a little from whacking and cracking shells. She settled into a lying position and rested her head on her outstretched front paws.

Peanut must have drifted off, because she snapped back to focus when something bumped against her nose. She blinked. It was a long, orange object. Oh – a carrot.

Behind the carrot sat Jelly, regarding their friend with an expectant look. Now where had they found that? Well, no matter, it was something Peanut could eat and boy did she want it. It wasn't meat, but she did enjoy the taste of a carrot nonetheless. The creeper snapped it up in her jaws, breaking it in half. She gripped one half of the carrot in her paws while gnawing at it with her back teeth. Jelly watched the display in fascination. Like the edge of a well-sharpened knife, Peanut's teeth scored the carrot into shreds with ease. She finished her food and then got up to look outside.

Sticking her head out from the cave crevice, she sniffed the air. The humidity had evaporated, and in its place a noontime heat had settled in. The clouds had also dissolved, leaving bright patches of sunlight scattered across the forest floor. She grunted in distaste and retreated back into her shelter. Now, the case was not that Peanut was some kind of wretched gremlin that hated sunshine and happiness. It was just that her eyes were adapted for dim light, making the direct sunlight nearly overwhelming for her, and she didn't care for much heat either. There is a reason creepers don't go out from midday to dusk.

If Peanut had kept looking for a few moments more, she may have noticed the green shape moving along the tree line. Or the wind may have changed directions, carrying his scent to her. She did not know it, but for the first time in months, she was not the only creeper in the area.


End file.
